The state of emergency that was triggered by the launch of the War on Terror has had enduring repercussions for the legal sphere, both internationally and within domestic jurisdictions. The “War” was set into motion not just with the military invasion of Afghanistan in October 2001 but even earlier, with a spate of legislative activity across the globe, starting with the United Nations Security Council. On 28th September 2001, the UN Security Council passed Resolution   1373 . The Resolution required all member states to criminalize terrorism financing and freeze assets that could be used for terrorism related activities. It also required states to take wide-ranging legislative and regulatory action against the movement of people suspected of terrorism (including refugees), and to establish preparatory offences i.e., offences related to activities that are carried out in preparation of (or to support or facilitate) terrorist acts. It also called on states to co- operate and share resources, intelligence, and evidence in an effort to build a global anti- terrorist regime. A Counter-Terrorism Committee   (CTC) was subsequently set-up to co- ordinate the counter-terrorism efforts at the international level. The committee is tasked with “ monitoring,     promoting     and     facilitating  ” the implementation of Security Council resolutions related to counterterrorism. Between 2001 and 2014, the Security Council passed a grand total of 34 resolutions concerning counterterrorism. These resolutions, along with the work done by CTC have had powerful effects globally. It has led scholars to term the Security Council as a “world legislature.” 1 It led to countries in both the Global North and Global South adopting new legal mechanisms as well as revamping and broadening older counter-terrorism laws. One significant impact of this wave of legislation was on the normalization of “pre-emption” as a legal doctrine. Pre-emption refers to the monitoring, disruption, and even criminal prosecution of organizations and individuals under counter-terrorism laws who have not committed any terrorist act, but who are deemed to pose a threat. Whereas ordinary criminal law operates under a “post-crime” context (where one can only be punished after a crime has been committed), counter-terrorism laws have led to a shift towards a “pre-crime society” (where people are tried and punished before any crime is committed). 2 To punish someone before they have committed an offence requires making predictions about the risk they pose, and what acts they may do in the future. In these cases, the evidence presented to the court is often circumstantial and involves guesswork. 3 This means that what is often being criminalized is someone’s identity and their social networks (e.g. who they know and associate with) rather than substantive acts that amount to terrorism. Prejudices about race and identity therefore become a significant part of the criminal process under counter-terrorism laws. While the shift to pre-crime society through the broadening of the scope of counter-terrorism legislation is of significant concern, it is not the only exceptional counter-terrorism legislation that has been deployed by nation-states in their attempt at managing populations and individuals deemed to be a security risk in the aftermath of 9/11. Here, Global South contexts like Pakistan – one of the key battlegrounds of the War on Terror – are important to study. Pakistan’s primary anti- terrorism legislation – the Anti-Terrorism Act 1997 – was enacted   before   9/11,   in   response   to sectarian    violence . Post 9/11, the legislation went through a long series of amendments, including in response to international pressure to broaden the scope of the act of terrorism by including material support offences (e.g. providing any kind of support to or attending events of an organization that is suspected of terrorism) and offences related to terrorism financing . The broad definition of terrorism under this legislation and its use in ordinary criminal cases (from rape to murder) has been decried by human   rights   organizations and legal scholars , as well as Pakistan’s    Supreme    Court . The legislation has also been deployed against political opposition of all shades – most recently to try the former Prime Minister Imran Khan . But in my research, I have found that while all political opposition can potentially be targeted through counter-terrorism legislation in Pakistan, particular political movements and ethnic communities are targeted systematically. One of these is a wildly popular non-violent Pashtun resistance movement, led by young professionals and students whose families hail from the former Federally    Administered    Tribal Areas   (FATA) . (FATA is a semi-autonomous region created during the British colonial period, and only merged with the province of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa in 2018. This region – located on Pakistan’s border with Afghanistan – has been the ground zero of Pakistan’s War on Terror, as well as U.S. led drone strikes in the country). Known as the Pashtun     Tahafuz     Movement     (Pashtun Protection Movement or PTM), it has openly questioned Pakistan’s military and security agencies’ policies on the War on Terror. In response, the state has filed hundreds (if not thousands) of criminal cases against PTM. 4 While counter-terrorism provisions are regularly invoked in cases filed against PTM activists for peacefully protesting, my research reveals that it is the excessive reliance on ordinary criminal law that is one of the most remarkable aspects of the postcolonial state’s national security apparatus. A wide variety of offences from the Pakistan Penal Code 1860 (PPC) are used in the criminal cases filed against PTM members, including the offence of Waging War Against the State which carries the death penalty or life imprisonment. There are two clauses related to the Waging War Against the State in Pakistan’s penal code that are consistently used against PTM activists. Section 121 of the PPC criminalizes “waging war” as well as the “attempt to wage war” and “abetting the waging of such war.” While “war” is not defined, there is an implication of material action taken against the sovereignty of the state. While this is harder to prove against peaceful protestors, the related Section 121-A whittles down the evidentiary requirements by also criminalizing any “conspiracy to wage war against the State,” including “a conspiracy to overawe with …a show of criminal force the Federal or Provincial government.” These provisions correspond to the offence of treason   at   common   law . While treason originally implied a breach of a personal duty owed to the monarch, it is now seen as a breach of the duty of allegiance to the state and can imply any kind of potential disturbance not limited to armed struggle. During the colonial era, this offence was most famously used to try Indian freedom fighters, including three    officers    of    the    British Indian   army   who   had   defected   to   the   Free   Indian Army   during   the   Second   World   War . Today, this offence (in conjunction with charges under anti- terrorism legislation and other offences from the penal code) is regularly used against peaceful protestors from PTM demanding accountability for the postcolonial state’s policies in the War on Terror. Pakistan’s example shows that in addition to exceptional and pre-emptive provisions under anti-terrorism laws, postcolonial states are also utilizing colonial era criminal laws to police and manage dissent in the wake of the War on Terror. While human rights activists and legal scholars have paid attention to the enactment of emergency provisions in the Global North as a response to the War on Terror, there is an equal need to interrogate ordinary criminal law, trace its history to imperatives of colonial policing, and highlight the ways in which it continues to be used by postcolonial states in their pursuit of national security in the aftermath of the War on Terror.